


First Fight

by orphan_account



Series: Winter in My Heart (re-posted) [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2020-04-06 02:46:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	First Fight

First fight. 

It starts their junior year. Both Margaery and Sansa are getting busier with projects and classes which means less weekend visits with each other. Margaery thinks it's fine though because they still skype nearly every night. 

When the second month of school rolls around, Margaery starts hearing about Sansa's new friend Dany. She hears about how Sansa and Dany tried the newest pizza place in Princeton. And how much they dislike their department head but love their professors. In fact seemingly every conversation that Margaery has with Sansa seems to be centered around Dany. 

The more Margaery hears about Dany the less she wants to talk to Sansa. She can feel the unfamiliar feelings of jealousy prickle underneath her skin. Margaery has never been particularly jealous. She's never had a hard time keeping her emotions in control, but with Sansa and the idea that she might be losing Sansa to another girl? Margaery can't help but let the jealousy start consuming her. 

Margaery starts taking longer to answer Sansa's texts. She knows that it's a passive aggressive move but she can't help herself. She starts ignoring Sansa's requests for skype sessions citing her busy schedule (which is kind of true, she does have a busy schedule, but if she had wanted to she could have squeezed Sansa in). 

Slowly their communication becomes minimal. They still text each other every day (at least once), but it feels like more of a duty to make sure the other is still alive. It's no longer filled with the heart starting excitement it once was. Besides when Sansa answers the question of 'how was your day' with some story about what she and Dany did that day, Margaery really has no incentive to text her. 

 

Still, when Margaery doesn't hear from Sansa in over 48 hours, concern and worry win out over petty passive aggressiveness sparked by jealousy. After checking with her family (who haven’t heard from her either) Margaery decides to hop a train from New York to Princeton. When she finally lays eyes on Sansa (who is sitting at a table in her common room laughing with her new friend Dany), all of her concern dissipates leaving only jealousy and annoyance (and maybe a little anger). 

"So you are alive. That's good," Margaery spits out. 

"Marg! Hey!" Sansa gets up from the table and tries to grab Margaery's hand but Margaery pulls away as though she's been burned, "why are you here? What's wrong?"

"It doesn't matter," Margaery shoves her hands inside her pockets and averts her eyes, "I have to get back to New York."

Sansa frowns and takes a half step closer to Margaery, "You just got here."

"And you're fine. And I have a project I should have been working on."

Margaery turns away and starts walking away, ignoring the way Sansa calls her name as she leaves. Margaery just feels a little bit embarrassed to have come all the way down to Princeton only for Sansa to be completely fine and laughing with her new friend. She also feels stupid for coming all the way down to Princeton and interrupting Sansa's new life. She heaves a sigh as she turns down the street, towards the train station. 

"Margaery! Stop ignoring me and turn around."

Margaery huffs and stops walking, but doesn't turn around. Sansa slows back to a walk and comes around to face Margaery. She tries again to grab at Margaery's arm but Margaery casually leans out of the way. 

"Marg. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"I tried texting you all weekend."

"My phone died and Dany and I were-"

"Of course, you and Dany were-"

Sansa ignores Margaery and presses on, "we were working on our project and then she took me out to a bar."

"Well I'm glad you had a great weekend," Margaery half turns away from Sansa. 

"Margaery." Sansa tries her gentle voice but Margaery only huffs and keeps her head turned to the side. Sansa's eyes harden and her voice loses all of it's gentleness, "you know what? When you figure it out you know where to find me."

Sansa leaves Margaery standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Margaery feels a little bit of remorse until she remembers how she spent all weekend waiting for Sansa to call her back. The flame of annoyance rises in her again and she feels it burning all the way back to New York. 

-

It's the first time that Sansa and Margaery have willingly not contacted each other since they started dating. By day three Margaery isn't feeling any more of her annoyance and anger. She starts feeling bad about not trying to call or talk to Sansa but she reminds herself that Sansa hasn't called her either. So she stubbornly settles in for another couple of days of silence. 

After day four Margaery really misses Sansa. She keeps seeing things around the city that remind her of Sansa. Margaery knows that she messed up and that she could have handled the whole thing better. 

Her heart clenches when she thinks about how much of an asshole she was. Margaery takes her phone out and her finger hovers over Sansa name. She takes a deep breath before pressing down. 

"Hello?"

"Hey Sans."

Sansa doesn't say anything and Margaery just listens to her breathe for a couple of moments before finding her words. 

"I'm sorry. About last week."

Margaery hears Sansa sigh into the phone, "what was that Marg?"

"It's hard- being away from you most of the time. I miss you Sans."

"It's hard for me too you know."

They're both silent for a minute before Sansa speaks again her voice soft and timid,

"Should it be this hard?"

"No? I don't know."

They're both silent again and Margaery can feel the tension over the phone. This was so not where she thought this conversation was going. She thought that she'd apologize and maybe visit Sansa. But now, now her heart clenches because she knows what's coming next. She knows where this is going. 

Her mouth moves and words spill out of her before Margaery can even think about what she's saying, 

"I can't keep doing this Sans. I can't hear about how funny Dany was today or what new things you guys tried together from 100 miles away. I just- I don't even feel like I'm a part of it anymore."

She can hear the tremor in Sansa's voice when she whispers, "what are you saying Marg?"

"I don't- I can't-" Margaery is trying in vain to keep her tears from flowing, to keep her voice steady, "I can't keep doing this."

Margaery's chest seizes as she says the words. She can't see Sansa but she knows her well enough by now to know that Sansa is crying too. 

"After two and a half years."

Margaery can hear the disbelief in Sansa's voice. And she wants nothing more than to be right with Sansa and assure her that no, she's not ending it. She wants to hug and hold Sansa, to see her, to feel her, to smell her. But that's the whole issue. She's not right there. She can't be. 

"I'm sorry."

Margaery doesn't even wait for Sansa's response. She's already hanging up the phone, tears pouring down her face and her body shuddering with each sob. 

-

Margaery regrets it the next morning. She feels the way her stomach churns, making her nauseous and it almost makes her want to call Sansa. Almost. But then Margaery remembers the way her insides burned whenever Sansa mentioned Dany and the way her heart seized when she hadn't heard from Sansa for a whole weekend. So Margaery never calls. But then again neither does Sansa. 

The good thing about being inundated with group projects and on the hunt for an internship, is that Margaery has no time to dwell on her break up. She spends most of her day at school working. If she's not working, she's sleeping. Occasionally she eats too, but lately she hasn't had much of an appetite. 

It takes two weeks for her friend Elinor to notice something is wrong. And when Elinor asks her how Sansa is doing all Margaery can manage is a sullen glare before her heart clenches and she feels tears prickling at the edges of her eyes. She must look really distraught because Elinor hugs her and doesn't mention Sansa's name again. 

After three weeks, Elinor decides that Margaery should be going out and getting over 'she who must not be named'. It takes a couple days of pestering before Elinor is able to cajole Margaery into going to a gays night out with her. 

Somewhere between the eighth and the tenth shot Margaery thinks that this is a bad idea. Alcohol and her current emotional state probably don't mix well. She's mostly sad and given alcohol's tendency to exaggerate her emotions, she winds up forgoing the dance floor to sit in the booth her friends have reserved. (She’s just glad that she’s not crying.) Every so often a girl comes by and persuades Margaery to take a shot with her. And by the end of the night Margaery is so stupendously drunk that her lips are tingling and she’s walking in a zig zag. 

-

It's the bright light of the sunrise that wakes her the next morning. Margaery feels a bit nauseous but otherwise, she feels no ill effects as a result of her heavy drinking the night before. She mentally toasts to being young. 

She lies in bed with her eyes closed for a couple more seconds before deciding to roll over and get some water. When she tries to fling her body off the bed her arm hits another body. Immediately she freezes. Margaery tries to think back to the night before but she draws a blank somewhere after her fifteenth drink. She can't even remember coming home. 

The body next to her groans. 

"What?"

"Sansa?"

"What?"

Margaery frowns and says nothing, causing Sansa to sleepily lift her head and look at Margaery's face. Margaery must have confusion written all over her face because Sansa sits up and sleepily rubs her eyes. 

"What are you doing here?"

"You were crying and then you invited me back to your apartment. You could barely stand Marg. And then after I got you into bed you wouldn't let me go."

Margaery tries not to smile at Sansa's use of her nickname. But she can feel the fluttering in her stomach (and it has nothing to do with the slight hangover she may or may not have).

"I mean what are you doing in New York?"

"I'm visiting Robb."

"Right."

They lapse into a tense silence. Margaery just stares at Sansa sitting in her bed. Sansa catches her eye but looks away quickly and makes a show of checking the time. 

"I should probably go."

Sansa bends to collect her things. Margaery's brain rapid fires to find an excuse for Sansa to stay longer. 

"What about breakfast?" when Sansa says nothing but continues looking for her lost articles of clothing Margaery pleads, "as a thank you. For getting me home."

Sansa looks at Margaery and Margaery tries to pull her best puppy dog face. There's a long moment where neither of them say anything and neither of them move. Finally Sansa lets out a sigh,

"Okay."

Margaery decides to take her to a diner uptown. They exit the apartment in silence and neither of them make an effort to start any conversation. Margaery's not even sure what she should say to Sansa. 

'I'm sorry, let's get back together' doesn't seem like it would work. And Margaery doesn't even know if she wants to get back together with Sansa. So she settles for silence as they walk in step towards the diner. Their hands brush and on instinct Margaery almost intertwines their fingers until she remembers. They walk further apart after that. 

Margaery turns to watch Sansa as they walk down the street. Sansa's hair flows with the breeze and her face looks relaxed. More relaxed than Margaery has seen in a long time. For the months leading up to their break up it seemed like Sansa's face constantly showed signs of her stress and worry. It's nice to see Sansa look like she's let all that go for once. 

Margaery's not been sneaky with her leering because Sansa looks over at her and catches Margaery's eye.

"You look good. Less worried. Less stressed." Margaery says, her voice gentle. It’s the charming voice she uses when she first meets people, the super nice voice.

Sansa blushes faintly, "I guess that's what happens when you drop your second major to a minor."

Margaery is so surprised that she says nothing. She knows that Sansa's second major, history, was something she'd always wanted to study. To hear that Sansa gave it up, kills Margaery a little inside. 

After a few more minutes of silence, they finally reach the diner and sit down in a booth. 

The waiter comes over immediately, "Do you want drinks to start?"

Margaery turns to Sansa, "Coffee?"

Sansa nods. 

"So two coffees. Cream and sugar?" the waiter scribbles it down. 

"Cream for her." Margaery says on reflex. She immediately drops her eyes back down to her menu, ignoring Sansa's stare. 

The waiter leaves them. 

"You remembered." There's a tone of surprise in Sansa's voice and Margaery can tell that Sansa is trying to be really casual about it. 

"How could I forget?"

Sometime in the middle of their first year, whenever Sansa would sleep over, Margaery would make a pot of coffee and because Margaery never used cream or sugar she never had any. Sansa would inevitably taste the coffee and reflexively gag and spit it out. And Margaery would wind up going to the nearest Duande Reade to buy the smallest thing of creamer she could find. 

As a result, by the end of the year Margaery had a collection of have used, expired creamer containers. She smiles at the memory of cleaning out her mini fridge with Loras and his look of incredulity when she'd pulled creamer container after creamer container from her fridge. 

The waiter comes back with their coffees and takes their order. After he takes the menus, Margaery and Sansa are left just staring at each other. Margaery wonders what other innocuous topics of conversation she can bring up. She's never had an ex, not one that she cares about anyway, and she doesn't even know where to start. 

"Why?" Sansa's voice is soft but sure and Margaery knew that the question was coming sooner or later, "was there- someone else?"

Sansa's voice wavers with the words 'someone else' and Margaery can see that her eyes are glossy with unshed tears. When she catches Margaery’s eye, Sansa moves her gaze to the mug of coffee in her hands. 

"No. No, sweet girl there was no one else. There hasn't been anyone else," Margaery reaches across the table to hold Sansa's hands. And while Sansa doesn't hold her hands back, she doesn't take her hands from Margaery's hold either which Margaery takes as a good sign to continue. 

"I was jealous of Dany," Margaery blurts out before thinking, "she got to spend all this time with you. And I was here, away from you. Every time we talked you would talk about her and I guess I let it get to me."

"Is that why you stopped texting? And calling me?" Sansa sounds so unsure and Margaery has never wanted to hug the girl more, to assure her that she never stopped loving her. But she can’t, not anymore, so she settles for the awkward hand hold.

"Yeah."

"There's nothing going on between Dany and I. I would never-” Sansa sighs resignedly, “I love you."

At those three words, Margaery feels her chest swell and the nausea inducing churning of her stomach finally stops. Margaery just wants to lean across the table and kiss Sansa hard but she remembers that they're not together anymore. So she settles for a hard squeeze of Sansa's hand and smiles when Sansa squeezes back. 

Their food interrupts them, but they can both feel the absence of the thick tension that had hung over them. They both dig in hungrily and when Sansa shovels a piece of pancake in her mouth in an uncharacteristically barbaric fashion Margaery’s smile broadens. 

The rest of the meal is quiet except for the scrape of silverware on plates. When the check comes Margaery pounces on it and hands it back to the waiter with her card in it before Sansa can object.

“I can pay for my own breakfast you know.”

“I know. But I’m taking you out remember. For getting me home last night.”

Sansa narrows her eyes at Margaery but doesn’t protest anymore.

The walk from the diner to Robb’s apartment is slower than their walk to the diner. Robb’s apartment and Margaery’s place are equidistant from the diner, but both Sansa and Margaery are moving slower. Margaery knows that once she’s dropped Sansa off at Robb’s she’ll probably not see Sansa again for a long while. So she savors the feeling of walking side by side with Sansa. She watches her from the corner of her eye. Margaery tries to commit everything to memory: the way Sansa’s beautiful hair waves in the wind, the way her nose crinkles when the smells of the city get strong, the way her eyes study everything.

All too soon, they arrive at Robb’s apartment. Margaery stares down at her feet and she can feel Sansa’s eyes on her. They linger outside of Robb's apartment for a while saying nothing until Sansa begins adjusting Margaery's collar. 

"Sorry. It was crooked." (It wasn’t and they both know it.)

Sansa moves to take a step back but reflexively Margaery grabs her by the waist and keeps their bodies close together. 

"I'll come and visit you?" Margaery means it to be a question but it comes out as more of a statement. Margaery can't stop looking at Sansa's lips. She tries to concentrate on Sansa's eyes but her eyes keep falling to her lips.

"Yeah." Sansa breathes. Her eyes are fixed firmly on Margaery's lips as she runs her tongue over her own lips. 

Margaery can't help herself anymore and leans up to press her lips gently to Sansa's. It's meant to be a short kiss. But when Margaery goes to pull away Sansa tugs her collar hard to keep Margaery close. Margaery runs her tongue over Sansa's bottom lip and moans involuntarily when she feels Sansa's tongue move against hers. 

"Sansa? Margaery!?!" Robb’s voice carries from down the street.

Sansa breaks away quickly and Margaery jumps about ten feet away from her. She tries to look casual, as though she wasn't just making out with his sister. 

"Robb. Hey." Margaery manages, still out of breath. 

Robb just glares at her before turning to his sister, "Sansa. What is Margaery doing here?"

Sansa looks uncomfortable, "We went to breakfast."

"She broke your heart Sansa," Robb hisses purposefully loud enough so that Margaery will hear. 

Margaery feels like she's intruding. She feels like this is a conversation she shouldn't be present for. Or rather a conversations she doesn’t want to be present for.

Margaery starts, "I'm going-"

"No!" Sansa yelps at the same time as Robb says, "That'd be good."

Robb doesn’t even try a faux whisper this time, "she broke up with you over the phone. After two and a half years Sansa."

“I still love her Robb,” Sansa whispers fiercely, the tips of her ears going red. Margaery looks away and pretends like she didn’t hear Sansa say it. But her heart feels like it’s ready to burst out of her rib cage it’s beating so hard.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Robb mutters darkly and casts one more glare at Margaery before heading back into his building.

 

“Sorry about him,” Sansa says, keeping a safe distance from Margaery.

Margaery closes the distance and grabs both of Sansa’s hands with her own, “It’s okay. I am the one who broke your heart after all.”

They’re both quiet again. Margaery enjoys the closeness to Sansa and enjoys the feeling of her fingers threaded through Sansa’s. 

“I’m still in love with you too, Sansa Stark,” Margaery makes sure to make eye contact, to let Sansa know that she really means every word. 

Margaery is surprised when Sansa leans down a bit and presses their lips together again. Margaery lets go of Sansa’s hands and lets her hands rest on Sansa’s waist. Sansa’s hands fly to her face and one hand carefully traces her jawline. 

They break apart after Margaery’s hands starting going under Sansa’s shirt. Their foreheads lean against each other as they catch their breath. Sansa’s hands still haven’t moved from Margaery’s face. 

“I’ll come visit you next week.”

“Okay,” Sansa breathes before bringing their lips together once more for a languid kiss.


End file.
